


Ice Cream and Handcuffs

by ModernWizard



Series: The Happy Famverse [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: A universe where everyone is alive and happy and no one is a jerk!, Clueless Doctor, Comfort Food, Emotional Support, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Food, Gen, Handcuffs, Humor, Ice Cream, Thasmin sort of, Thirteen/Dhawan Master sort of, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernWizard/pseuds/ModernWizard
Summary: Yaz and the Master commiserate over ice cream about their crushes on Thirteen. The rest of the fam -- Ryan, Graham, and Grace -- try to help. An intervention is staged. Someone is handcuffed to a chair. The Doctor notices nothing.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Grace O'Brien, Thirteenth Doctor & Graham O'Brien, Thirteenth Doctor & Ryan Sinclair, Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: The Happy Famverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694899
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Ice Cream and Handcuffs

[INT. Thirteen’s TARDIS. Kitchen. YAZ and THE MASTER are sitting at the table, passing a pint container of ice cream back and forth, as they pine for THE DOCTOR.]

YAZ: “And then she hugged me, and I was like, YAY, finally something’s happening!”

THE MASTER: “But then it turns out she hugs everyone.”

YAZ: “I know! Right? She even hugged my mum.”

THE MASTER, muttering: “She probably has a crush on your mum.”

YAZ: “Nooooooo! Don’t make this worse than it already is. Gimme that ice cream.” [Eats ice cream.]

[YAZ and THE MASTER sigh.]

THE MASTER, shaking his head and flaring his nostrils: “Thinking up the perfect evil scheme? Satisfying. Executing it successfully:  _ So _ satisfying. Pining after your best frenemy: So  _ not  _ satisfying.”

YAZ: “And she’s too...cute, you know?”

THE MASTER: “Your mum? Eh, I suppose. I’m more partial to people with short trousers that don’t reach, though.”

YAZ: “Not my mum! The Doctor. Why does she have to be so flippin’  _ cute?” _

THE MASTER: “Yeah. Fucking adorable. With the little scrunchy thing her nose does.”

YAZ: “I knooooooooooow.”

THE MASTER “I’m a sucker for the scrunchy thing. Gives me a little buzz right here every time.” [Pats hearts.]

YAZ: “I knoooooooooooooooooooow!”

THE MASTER, lunging for the half-full pint and eating it in a frenzy: “This isn’t working! Commiserate harder!”

[RYAN wanders in as THE MASTER is speed-eating ice cream.]

RYAN: “What’s with him?”

YAZ: “He’s on his fourth pint.”

RYAN, skeptically: “He doesn’t seeeeeem drunk…?”

YAZ: “Of ice cream.”

RYAN: “Ahhhhh...”

[Somehow THE MASTER has ended up lying on his back on the lino, like he’s fallen down and too drunk to pick himself up.]

THE MASTER, staring at the ceiling: “And her trousers — her stupid little trousers... Why don’t they ever go down to her ankles? Why are they just above? It’s tooooo...attractive...or infuriating...distractive...infuriative...or something.”

[GRAHAM appears in the doorway with half a cheese and onion sandwich in his mouth and another on a plate.]

GRAHAM: “Hey, guys, what’s going—”

YAZ, turning green: “Graham, get out of here with your smelly sandwiches.”

GRAHAM: “I thought the Master might want one. He looks a little ice cream drunk.” [To THE MASTER.] “Hey Master, do you want a cheese and onion sarnie?”

THE MASTER, not moving from the floor: “I dunno. Do you want me to projectile vomit?”

RYAN: “See, Granddad? Keep your weird-ass sandwiches to yourself.”

[GRACE joins everyone.]

GRACE: “What did I tell you, Graham? That shit stinks.”

RYAN, rolling his eyes at YAZ and THE MASTER: “Are you two sitting around and moaning again?”

THE MASTER, finally getting up and retrieving another pint of ice cream from the freezer: “It’s called commissary...co-mister...feeling sorry together!”

GRACE: “Yikes, he’s got it bad.”

YAZ, attempting to take pints from THE MASTER: “I’m cutting you off.” 

THE MASTER, clutching pints to his chest: “But PC Khan, that’s my emotional support dessert!”

YAZ: “Will someone confiscate the contraband from him?”

THE MASTER, pulling out TCE: “No one come any closer, or I shoot.” [Bungles everything, fires TCE at emotional support desserts, and shrinks them.] “Shit! Shit shit shit.” [Goes to knees on the floor, examines miniature pints forlornly.] “So not satisfying…”

RYAN, pulling out phone and framing THE MASTER with his camera: “Smile! It’s meme time!”

GRAHAM: “Meme time?”

GRACE, with a wry smirk: “Yes, honey, it’s a form of humor for the youths of today.”

GRAHAM, chuckling: “Are you making fun of me?”

GRACE, laughing: “Me? Never!”

YAZ, peeking over Ryan’s shoulder: “What meme?”

RYAN, showing her the meme and reading text aloud: “‘He can have a little ice cream as a treat.’” [YAZ, RYAN, GRAHAM, and GRACE laugh.]

THE MASTER: “Shit!  _ I _ should have said that. ‘But PC Khan, all I want is to have a little ice cream as a treat.’ Except I don’t want a little ice cream. I want a lot! Entire icebergs of it! Enough to fill the void at the core of my being and freeze my feelings of inadequacy. Screw it. I’ll say that next time.” [Waves hand dismissively, turns back to freezer, digs through it, loading arms with pint containers.]

RYAN, throwing mini pints at THE MASTER: “Oi! You got your treats right here! Stop it!”

THE MASTER, turning around with a stack of six pints under his chin: “Bwah hah hah, you cannot stop me, for I am unstoppable! I am —  _ the Master of Ice Cream!” _

GRACE, to THE MASTER: “You can’t do that! You’ll get ice cream poisoning!” [Turns to YAZ, RYAN, and GRAHAM.] “I’ve been studying up on Gallifreyan physiology a bit, just in case our dear Doctor gets in a scrape. Apparently ice cream acts on Time Lords the way that alcohol acts on humans.”

GRAHAM: “Huh. So he  _ is _ drunk.”

RYAN: “Because it was rum-flavored?” [Retrieves empty pint container from floor.] “Naw, it’s just vanilla.”

THE MASTER, bouncing his eyebrows: “Did someone say vanilla? ‘Cause I am definitely not vanilla. I’m kinky as hell!”

YAZ, RYAN, GRAHAM, and GRACE:  _ “WE KNOW. _ Shut up.”

RYAN: “We should probably keep him from getting ice cream poisoning.”

GRACE: “Even if he is an annoying yammery little shit.”

THE MASTER, settling down and tucking into another pint:  _ “You’re _ an annoying—” 

YAZ: “Okay, that’s it. Someone confiscate the contraband!”

GRAHAM, expertly removing THE MASTER’S pints from his grasp and returning them to the freezer: “I’ll take these, thank you very much.”

THE MASTER: “Hey! I would have shared!” [Leaps up and wheels back toward freezer.]

YAZ: “The suspect is escaping! Block the exits! Restrain him!”

GRACE, standing in the doorway with arms folded: “Exit blocked, PC Khan.”

RYAN and GRAHAM, securing THE MASTER’S hands behind his back: “Okay, got ‘im.”

THE MASTER, wiggling: “This is like one — two — several against one! Unfair!”

YAZ, gesturing to THE MASTER’S empty chair: “Sit him down.”

THE MASTER: “What is this, an interrogation? I’ve told you before — it’s very simple.  _ I’m eating my feelings.” _

YAZ, bringing out handcuffs: “It’s a drastic intervention is what it is.”

RYAN, eyes wide, impressed: “Wow, since when do you have handcuffs, Yaz?”

GRAHAM, deadpan: “She’s a police officer, son. It’s part of her job.”

THE MASTER, sitting up with interest: “Oooh, handcuffs? Did someone say handcuffs? Why, Yaz, I never knew you swung that way.” [Eyebrow bounce.]

YAZ, handcuffing THE MASTER to his chair with his hands behind him: “It’s to keep you from the ice cream, mate. I’m not banging you. Tartan’s a turn-off.”

THE MASTER, sliding down in his chair as much as possible with a melodramatic wail: “Nooooooo…”

YAZ, chin in hand: “How do you get over being ice cream drunk if you’re a Time Lord?” [Turns to GRACE.] “Any ideas, Grace?”

GRACE, pulling papers from her pocket: “Let me check my notes.”

THE MASTER:  _ “MORE ICE CREAM.” _

YAZ, RYAN, GRAHAM, and GRACE: “Shut up.”

GRACE: “Hmmm...apparently you should dose them with the opposite of ice cream. What’s that?”

GRAHAM: “Something not sweet? Tofu?”

RYAN, reporting over open fridge door: “Sorry — no tofu.”

YAZ: “Green salad, maybe?”

THE MASTER:  _ “NO.” _

YAZ, RYAN, GRAHAM, and GRACE, nodding in concert: “Green salad.”

RYAN, pulling a bag from the fridge: “All I found are these. What are they? TCEd cabbages?”

YAZ: “Brussels sprouts.”

THE MASTER, coughing, gagging, and convulsing theatrically: “Yaaaaack! Arrrrrrrgh…” [Slumps down in seat, twitches a few times, is now apparently dead and not regenerating.]

GRAHAM, squatting by THE MASTER: “Aw, cheer up. They’re fine if you put a little cheese and onion on them.”

THE MASTER, opening one eye: “Are you  _ trying _ to trigger my gag reflex?”

[THE DOCTOR bounces in.]

The Doctor: “Hi fam! What am I missing?”

YAZ, RYAN, GRAHAM, GRACE, and THE MASTER:  _ “A LOT.” _


End file.
